


The Loopholes in Ineffability

by Ash_and_Ember



Series: Behind the Scenes of History [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Historical References, Ineffability, The Arrangement, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_and_Ember/pseuds/Ash_and_Ember
Summary: After the fallout caused by the Schism of 1054, an angel and a demon meet in a pub. Feelings are discussed. There's flirting if you squint hard and look at the screen sideways





	The Loopholes in Ineffability

It was a nice day. Crowley tried not to be mad about it. He sat on the bank of the river Ill throwing bread at the birds that flew over the water. 

“Please behave yourself,” said a voice from behind him. “What have the birds done to you?”

“Nothing,” answered Crowley. “But I’m bored, and they’re here. Besides, they’re quite loud.”

Aziraphale listened to the cries of the birds. They were annoying, ruining what would have been a perfect day on the river. But he was an angel, so he couldn’t condone throwing bread at living creatures simply because they were annoying. But if the loudest of the bunch gave an undignified squawk and disappeared beneath the water, he was sure no one would notice.

“Do you want to get something to drink with me?” Crowley asked him suddenly. “I know a good pub near here.” He flailed an arm in the direction Aziraphale had come from. 

“Oh, well, sure.” 

“Perfect.” Crowley unfolded himself from the ground, standing to meet Aziraphale. His red tunic had elaborate black embroidery around the cuffs, neck, and waist. His belt looked a bit more scaly than one usually saw, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to say anything. At least his hair fit in the current fashion, long enough to nearly brush his shoulders, and his tight curls were meticulously neat, nearly forming a halo around his head. If the demon couldn’t groom his wings, he was going to take excellent care of his hair. 

In comparison, Aziraphale felt quite a bit underdressed. His own tunic was a drab beige color with very little embroidery, unless one counted the spots on the elbows he had worn through by having his arms on tables copying out manuscripts. The strange looking pair walked along the street. Between the beautiful day and the houses in nice rows along the river, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. 

They walked through the main marketplace where people were selling everything from pottery to fresh fruit to slivers of wood from the cross Jesus had been crucified upon. Angel and demon alike frowned at that particular stall. 

“No sssssmiting in public, angel,” hissed Crowley under his breath. “Give me one conversation with him and he’ll belong to my ssssside.” 

“I can’t just allow you to tempt someone,” Aziraphale whispered back. “That would make me complicit in demonic activities. Just let him be and let the world happen to him, my dear.” He grabbed a hold of Crowley’s arm and tugged him along away from the false seller of relics. 

Being called “my dear,” was new… Crowley shook his head slightly and opened the door to the pub for Aziraphale. They sat at a table in the shadows away from the fireplace, where they would be relatively undisturbed. A harried looking serving girl brought them each a tankard of beer, sausage, cheese, and an apple. After she left, aziraphale changed his beer into wine.

“What are you doing here in Strasbourg?” asked Aziraphale.

“I had to get away from Constantinople for a bit. The people downstairs said your side had won, and we should make ourselves scarce.”

“Really? I was told to get out of Rome and wait for things to settle down a bit because your side won. Apparently causing the Church to splinter makes it harder for us to keep track of souls.” 

“Well, it’s all part of The Plan.” Crowley raised his tankard and gave a mock toast towards the sky. 

“Yes, how could I forget about The Plan.”

“As much as I dislike the churches on principal, I admit I am rather sad about leaving Constantinople. The Hagia Sophia is truly remarkable.” He called for another beer, avoiding the borderline adoring face Aziraphale was making at him.

In not too long a time, they had become pleasantly drunk. Aziraphale took off his awful cloak that looked like it had been sewn by a drunk three legged goat. His eyes were bright despite the shadows in the room, and his rumpled hair made him look ever so slightly less angelic. Crowley would never tell him, but he looked good. 

“Do you remember Rome?” Crowley asked him with a slight hiccup.

“They were excellent architects, even if I can’t condone all that they built.” Aziraphale sighed wistfully. “One does miss the Romans and their lovely straight roads. And don’t even get me started on the atrocious accents most of the clergy have; I can barely understand their sermons!”

Crowley laughed into his beer during the angel’s mini tirade. “Didn’t they think you were a god for a decade or so?” he asked slyly, stopping the lecture about language evolution and the proper way to be a scholar before it could start. 

“Oh, don’t remind me. Gabriel was furious at me for that one. Those above are okay for miracles and such, you know, in the correct situation, but they don’t like it so much when a sizable outpost of the Roman Empire adopts an angel as a god.”

“There’s sssssomething I need to tell you,” Crowley said in what he clearly thought was a whisper. “I ssssstarted those rumours.” 

Aziraphale slammed his tankard onto the table, wine sloshing out. “You awful demon! Do you have any idea how much trouble I was in? I nearly had to go through a trial! That’s why I missed the whole thing with Diocletian, which made Gabriel even more upset!” 

Crowley giggled uncontrollably. 

“It’s not funny!” But Aziraphale was laughing too. 

“Okay, okay,” Crowley said once he had regained control of his diaphragm. “C’mon angel, what have you done to me?”

Aziraphale looked at everything in the room that wasn’t the demon across the table from him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said rather stiffly. “I am a pure paragon of righteousness and would never do something like play a prank on my natural nemesis.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, alright. I, er, had a few conversations with Egyptian artists over the centuries. Have you never wondered why there are so many statues or paintings that look like you? Especially you fighting against evil?”

“I looked like a typical Egyptian person, if a bit prettier! Of course it would seem like pictures looked like me!” 

“Do you remember the big marketplace in Cairo by the Pharaoh's palace? It wasn’t a coincidence we were there together so often. Quite a lot of artists worked there, and quite a few of them knew me.”

Crowley threw his beer in Aziraphale’s face in a stunning display of maturity. “You are no friend of mine.”

“Gabriel will be happy about that. It doesn’t look good for me, when my closest friend is supposed to be my great enemy.” 

“Nooooo, I’m sorry I’m sorry. You have to be my friend, because Gabriel will be mad.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s arm across the table and made cow eyes at him. 

Aziraphale laughed again, something that was happening a lot today. “Okay, my dear. You… aren’t my enemy.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Ah, thank you. How nice.”

“Crowley, my love, I have known you since the first day. I know you better than I know any of the other angels. If you weren’t a demon, you would certainly be a true friend of mine. The world has changed much, but you have always been there with me.” He looked across the table at Crowley. Crowley looked back. The barroom around them was chaotic and full, but there was a stillness to the two of them. 

“And, um, you’re not as bad as Hastur and Ligur, and the others,” began Crowley.

“I should hope not! I’m an angel.” Aziraphale slammed his hand down on the table to show he was having an emotion. 

“Please, I’m trying to express myself here. Are you finished?”

Aziraphale looked down at the table, slightly cowed. “Yes, I’m done.” 

“Good. So, as I was saying, I look forwards to seeing you. It’s… nice to talk to you. Half of the fun I’ve had in the world is because of you. You’re the only one who could possibly understand my life. When I talk about heaven and hell with you, you don’t try to drag me to a priest.” Crowley stared pointedly at the air just about the angel’s left shoulder. “Excuse me, could I have another one please?” He looked back and forth between a new serving girl and his empty tankard. 

Aziraphale was silent after Crowley had finished. He simply sat there drinking his wine and thinking about everything that had just been said. He discovered that nothing about this information was new. He knew Crowley practically better than he knew himself. Without him, life on earth would be unbearably boring. They had watched Rome burn together after realizing there was nothing else they could do. Crowley had stopped him from smiting Caesar after The Library at Alexandria burned. They attended countless parties together in Greece and Egypt, and still wouldn’t talk to anyone about the Epic of Gilgamesh. There were some things neither of their bosses needed to know. 

He realized quite suddenly, that he didn’t want to work against Crowley. He hadn’t for a while, but only now did he put the feeling to words. With a grimace, he sobered himself up.

“Crowley,” he said slowly. “I have something I need to talk to you about in private. Will you come back to my place?”

Crowley raised another magnificent eyebrow. “I didn’t think your side went for that kind of thing. Waiting until marriage and whatnot."

Aziraphale blushed furiously. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. This isn’t a joke.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He threw a few solt on the table in payment, then offered his arm to Aziraphale. 

The angel and the demon looked like any other pair of friends leaving a pub after too much to drink. Crowley let himself be led by Aziraphale, as he was still rather drunk. He let go only when Aziraphale had to open a door. 

The house was a narrow timber framed house, three stories high and listing dreadfully towards the road. The bottom floor was the workshop of a shoemaker.

“Taken up a new hobby, have you angel?”

“What? Er, no. I’m just staying here.”

“Europeans aren’t known for having room in their house for extra guests, unless something has drastically changed since I was last here. Where’s the shoemaker?”

“He decided rather suddenly to take a pilgrimage to Rome, if you must know. And was more than happy to let a weary traveller stay in his house and keep it from burning down.” He pushed Crowley gently towards the table at the center of the room to avoid further discussion. “Please sit down.”

Crowley sat. 

“Can you make yourself sober? This is important.”

Crowley made himself sober. “Okay, what’s this about?”

“The world isn’t a perfect place. People will do bad things without your influence, and do good without me.” Aziraphale sat down across from Crowley. “So why are we fighting against each other? I may be an angel, but you’re my friend.”

“What are you saying, angel?”

“I’m saying that it’s pointless to fight you personally. I’ll work just enough that Gabriel will think I’m being effective, and that way I won’t have to keep discoperating you.”

“Excuse me, I discorperated you a fair amount of times as well.” 

“Yes, and I don’t want either of us to do that anymore! You can tempt people and I’ll thwart you, and I’ll save people, and you can thwart me in equal measure. Just enough to keep our bosses off our back and keep the world spinning, and we can sit back together and enjoy each others company without the threat of discorperation.”

“That’s not a bad idea, angel,” Crowley said. “But why? If we do this, I’ll officially be… not your enemy.”

“We can say it’s all part of The Ineffable Plan. I tell mine I’m redeeming a demon, and you tell yours you tempted an angel.” He spread his hands wide. “And no one needs to be the wiser for it.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic originally started as a self indulgent way to practice writing for a German exam, but there was nothing stopping me from going back to English and sharing with the world. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
